


where do we belong? anywhere but here

by DestielPhanCaleo_Shipper



Category: Bandom, Emo Quartet - Fandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Frank and Gerard aren't together in this fic, I don't know, I dunno read it and tell me what you think, It's actually a pretty decent fic, M/M, Post-Break Up, maybe I'm just tired, my friend liked it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 02:22:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10934994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielPhanCaleo_Shipper/pseuds/DestielPhanCaleo_Shipper
Summary: Frank is broken, and looking back at past memories doesn't help him one bit.(Man, am I bad at summaries... Just read it, it's real sad.)





	where do we belong? anywhere but here

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this is kinda me venting. This happened to me, and my method of coping with it was writing, so here ya go! It's pretty okay, it may not make sense, because I'm not that skilled at getting my thoughts on paper, but I digress.

_Someone I love threw me away,_

_Someone I love threw me away,_

_But I don’t mind,_

_No I don’t mind at all._

_-where do we belong? anywhere but here by frnkiero andthe cellabration_

Frank’s POV:

     I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down after the small encounter with my family.

_“Merry early Christmas, Frank!” I heard before I was suddenly enveloped in a hug._

_I laughed, but it was slightly muffled by his chest._

_“Merry early Christmas, love.”_

_“I kinda feel bad for having gotten you only one present,” he pouted._

_I smiled warmly. “It’s okay, I don’t like getting presents anyways,” I said, gently taking the box from his hands._

_“I will warn you though,” he started, and I raised an eyebrow. “That box is full a bunch of sentimental crap, so, like…” he trailed off._

_I pouted, “Aw, man, now I feel bad for having gotten you such superficial shit.”_

_It was his turn to smile warmly, “Well that’s a good thing I’m super superficial.”_

_I didn’t bother arguing, seeing as his dad was probably impatiently waiting for him to get back in the car._

**IS IT AN ANIMAL?**

     I didn’t think too hard on that, my brain too muddled to think clearly.  _No, he isn’t an animal._ I thought, before pressing the _NO_ button.

     I face palmed suddenly, _humans are ani-oh whatever._ I sighed, and leaned back, cradling the small plastic toy against my chest.

_He smiled sheepishly and said with a shrug, “And this one’s just in case you get bored.”_

_I didn’t want to point out the fact that if I were bored, I could just text him, or busy myself with my phone or whatever. Instead, I simply smiled._

     The letters slowly inched across the small strip of screen that was on this old toy.

**IS IT HEAVIER THAN A POUND OF BUTTER?**

     I shifted, slightly uncomfortable. _Of course,_ I thought, _it’d be quite impossible for him to be less than a pound of butter._  I tried not to dwell too much about his opinions on his weight, _no point in upsetting myself further_ , and pressed YES.

**IS IT ELECTRONIC?**

     I knew there was going to be questions like this, but I still rolled my eyes.

_No, however he may make me feel like otherwise, he is not electronic or electric in any way._

**IS IT SMALLER THAN A SHOE?**

_That’d be great, so he could stop making fun of_ my _height, but sadly, no._

     A few questions later, I got one that said:

**CAN IT CARRY PEOPLE?**

_I guess; he always tries to carry me everywhere to which I respond with threatening to kick his ass to next Tuesday._

     SOMETIMES.

**CAN IT HOP?**

     I shrugged, _if he wants to._

     SOMETIMES.

**DOES IT HAVE FEET?**

     I chuckled, _yes, which he clumsily makes his way around with. Gosh, he’s_ so _uncoordinated, I remember one day--_

     I shook my head, _stop dwelling on the past, Frank, just play the damn game._

     YES.

     The words took forever to make their way across the screen. Sometime considerable amount of later, I got a question like:

**IS IT HOT?**

     I giggled, _Well,_ I _certainly think so, but I don’t think that’s what the game is asking about._

     Giving an exaggerated sigh, I pressed: SOMETIMES.

**DOES IT HAVE A HOLE?**

     My shoulders shook with silent laughter; I nearly dropped the purple toy, I was laughing so hard.

 _This is why I don’t have friends,_ I thought, grinning.

     YES.

     I impatiently waited for the letters for the final question to finally appear, and the next question nearly broke me.

**CAN YOU FUNCTION WITHOUT IT?**

     I just stared at the screen for a moment, so long that the toy flashed a screen full of question marks dancing down the line.

_Can you function without it?_

_“Well, let me start with this one,” he picked the green marker out of the box. “I get that you’re not much into art, but,” he twirled the marker, blushing. “I just wanted the marker to remind you that… the world was your canvas, and to bring as much color to it as you possibly can.” He shrugged, looking embarrassed, but trying to hide it. “That, and I heard you say one of your markers were running out of ink.”_

_I chuckled,_ it was the black marker, but okay. At least he knows I have a slight emotional dependency on my markers and marking up my arms like there was no tomorrow.

_He fiddled slightly with the next one, a fake rabbit’s foot taped to a green string of yarn. “I, uh, made this back in elementary school,” he turned the rabbit’s foot in his hand. “This one’s kinda self-explanatory, to bring you luck.”_

_He gently placed it back in the shoe box._

_Picking up the weird blue ball in a black sort of mesh, he said, “This next one is a stress ball.”_

     Ah, _I thought, that’s_ what that is.

_He looked up straight in my eyes this time as he spoke._

_“It’s for, in case you’re having an anxiety attack and I’m not there,” I suddenly felt exposed and wanted to cry. “Here’s a stress ball to at least get you in a better state of mind until you can find a way to get to me.” He looked down, and added as an afterthought. “Don’t take off the mesh thing, though.”_

_I nodded, solemn._

     The plastic, purple toy was currently held in my trembling hands; _“Just in case you get bored.”_

     I didn’t realise I was crying until I felt a tear streak down my cheek. Upon realising this, I also found I couldn’t stop.

     I dropped the toy on my bed, and curled in on myself, hugging my knees. I didn’t care if my family could hear me crying; they wouldn’t do anything about it anyways.

     I cried; louder than I had in years.

     “I’m sorry,” I blubbered to my empty room. “I’m so sorry; I know I wasn’t good enough.” Hearing it said aloud didn’t make it any better. “I’m so sorry, please, I’m sorry, please…”

     I could practically hear his soothing voice, _“It’s okay Frankie, please don’t cry, I’m here for you.”_

     I gave a broken sob, “Gerard.”

**Author's Note:**

> My friend said she cried at the end, and I just kinda assumed it was because she was tired. Did this genuinely make anyone cry?
> 
> ((Also, if you Google "20Q Radica" you'll find a picture of what toy I'm talking about.))


End file.
